


Dark Night

by geekmama



Series: Time of the Season [20]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Deleted Scenes, F/M, Family Drama, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 04:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10528626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekmama/pseuds/geekmama
Summary: I've tagged this Sherlock/Molly, but they are only in the background as this is a little deleted scene fromBrokenand from their oldest son's POV....Jon was crying again before Rosie disappeared up the path, into the dark night...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Exactly 450 words for the 'Dark' prompt.
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Jon was crying again before Rosie disappeared up the path, into the dark night. He was trying not to, but he couldn’t seem to help it. He was always the softer of the two of them. 

But Will’s eyes stung, too, as he took his brother’s hand, and his voice wasn’t as steady as he would have liked as he said, “Come on, let’s wrap up in that blanket and get some sleep.” 

“I w-want to go home,” Jon whimpered as they returned to the deeper gloom under the bridge. 

“I know,” Will said, tightly. He led his brother over to where the blanket and their pitiful stock of provisions lay. He could just barely see them. “Are you hungry?” 

“A little. Can I have a biscuit?” 

“Yeah. Let’s spread out the blanket first.” 

They spread the blanket near the concrete wall, part of the bridge’s foundation, and then, with some difficulty, Will opened the tin of biscuits. Left over from Christmas (and sharp grief smote Will at the thought that they’d never see a Christmas at home again), there was still tape all around the edge of the tin, difficult to pick off. He finally managed it, though, and then the tin opened quite easily. 

He brought it over and sat down next to Jon, leaned back against the cold concrete, and wiped his fingers a bit against the rough denim of his trousers before taking out a couple of biscuits and handing them to his brother. 

Presently, there was the sound of munching. 

After a bit, Jon said, “Aren’t you going to have any?” 

“No,” said Will. 

His eyes were stinging again, and his lip quivering, too. 

He set his teeth and turned his head to peer at the faintly visible landscape outside their bolthole. 

Jon moved closer to him, small and warm. Snuffling. 

Will put his arm around him, turning back to the blackness closer at hand. “Let’s wrap up and go to sleep,” he said, giving his brother a hug. 

“All right,” said Jon. 

As they scooted down to lay flat and close, and drew the edges of the blanket over them and tight around them, Will doubted he’d be able to sleep, even as tired as he was, though he’d make an effort to lie still for his brother’s sake. Jon, wrung out, soon settled and within a very few minutes his breathing became deep and even. They had always shared the same room at home, and Will knew the sound of his brother in sleep. 

It was a soothing sound. Will closed his eyes and listened, and slowly but surely there was only that, and the dark night -- the darkest he’d ever known -- fading.

  
~.~  


End file.
